Sounding a Chord
by LisaT
Summary: Sixteen year old Constance Hardbroom has been left to fend for herself, but then a first encounter with a distant relative changes her life.. ONE SHOT


Constance Hardbroom stepped into her kitchen through the fireplace and heaved a sigh of relief. The noise and bustle and colour of Diagon Alley often left her feeling confused and uptight; this house, severe and uncomfortable as it was, was at least familiar.

She waved a hand and watched dispassionately as her purchases literally put themselves away. Granny Hardbroom had taught her granddaughter relatively little magic, but due to her own infirmity she had insisted that the girl become proficient in those charms and spells would could be useful in housekeeping from a very early age, and Constance had learned early that untidy spellwork (or housework, for that matter) would result in severe punishment.

"That was neatly done," a voice oberved behind her, and the girl swung around to face the speaker. She frowned, and began to speak, but was interrupted.

"I see that the letter I received from the bank did not lie," the other woman went on. "You do seem to be fending for yourself – rather well too, judging from appearances."

Constance shrugged and eyed the woman warily. "I'm accustomed to it," she said shortly.

Her visitor looked at her over the top of her square spectacles. "That may be, but the fact remains that you are under-age and must have a guardian. That is the law."

"I do have a guardian," Constance retorted. "Hecketty Broomhead. My grandmother arranged it for me, but Mistress Broomhead is away for the summer. I shall see her in September when I start at the Witches' Training Academy."

"Are you not too young for that? I was under the impression that you are only just over sixteen."

Constance's chin went up. "So? I don't know who you are, and I certainly don't know what business it is of yours." Her tone was dismissive.

"H'mm. Well, I suppose I should introduce myself. My name is Minerva McGonagall and I am a cousin of your mother's. Gringotts Bank contacted me when they realised that you would be left without a guardian for the summer; Mistress Broomhead notwithstanding, I am your nearest blood relative."

"They needn't have bothered," Constance told her sharply. "Like you said yourself, I'm perfectly accustomed to fending for myself. I'm not a child."

Minerva McGonagall's eyes narrowed. "That is not the point," she returned with equal sharpness. "You are underage, and, as such, you are my responsibility. Now, be a good child and summon your things and then we shall go."

Constance felt her entire body stiffen in rage. "I am _not_ a child," she repeated, the words forced through clenched teeth, "and I'm not going anywhere with you, even if you do say you're my mother's cousin! How do I know you're not lying?"

"My dear girl, I know that witches trained through the Cackle tradition like to keep themselves removed from the rest of the wizarding world, but surely you recognise my name!"

Constance only looked at her blankly, and the older woman shook her head.

"I am Minerva McGonagall. _Professor_ Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I am also a consultant for the Department of Transfiguration and Transfrogrification at Weirdsisters' College, and a member of of Wizenmagot. Need I say more?"

"Just because you're all that doesn't mean that you'll be any good to me," Constance muttered, still defiant.

Professor McGonagall's lips twitched. "No? As I said, I'm a consultant for Weirdsisters'. I'm also an Animagus, which is a step beyond the self-transfiguration I know you learn at Cackles'. Unless I'm very much mistaken, you're hungry for knowledge, my girl. If you come with me, I'll teach you some of what I know, and that will give you a head start in college in September. I know Hecketty Broomhead," she continued, her burr growing stronger as her voice softened. "She gives no quarter, Constance, and she can be unmerciful to those in her power, as you will be. Please, child. Allow me to give you this much at least, even if you choose never to lay eyes on me again."

Angrily, Constance blinked away the sudden film that had covered her eyes at Minerva's words. It sounded as if the woman really cared, and Constance had almost forgotten how that felt. She swallowed the unwanted tears and lifted her chin so that her head was high and her back ramrod straight as she faced Professor McGonagall.

"All right," she said, her tone harsh. "I'll come, just to see if you can really teach me anything useful. But I'm only staying as long as I think it's any good. Understood, Professor?"

This time, Minerva McGonagall really did smile. "Understood, Miss Hardbroom. Do you have much to gather together?"

Still stiff, Constance shook her head.

"Very well; off you go and pack a case and I'll wait here. Don't waste any time, for you've much to learn!"

Constance's dark eyes held the older woman's gaze for a long moment and then inclined her head in a jerky movement. Five minutes later she was back, and satisfaction filled her as she saw the surprise on Professor McGonagall's face. Evidently Minerva had expected her to take some time.

A rather grim smile curved the girl's lips. She had agreed to the professor's suggestion, but she was determined to keep her own side of the bargain. She'd stay with McGonagall only as long as she was benefitting from it, only as long as she was gaining the knowledge and power that McGonagall so rightly surmised she desired above all else.

She was not to know that she would learn more than spells and transfiguration. This summer would transform her life and determine the course her future path would take.

-end.


End file.
